


Ash

by Irelando



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, all aboard the feels train destination angst by way of adorable baby bodhi, bodhi rook appreciation week, day 3: jedha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 05:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10678485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irelando/pseuds/Irelando
Summary: Ash (n.)the remains of something destroyed; ruins.(aka: five times Bodhi met the Guardians, and one time he didn't. for Bodhi week, day 3.)





	Ash

_\--_

_i.19 BBY_

_\--_

“Do you hear that?”

It takes a moment for Baze to surface, easing out of the deep calm that always finds him when he reaches out to the Force. “Hm? Hear what?”

Chirrut’s head is cocked to one side. “It sounds like someone crying.” He listens a moment longer. “It sounds like a child.”

Baze still doesn’t hear anything, but as a rule, when Chirrut says he hears something Baze believes it. “Okay,” he says, and pushes himself to his feet. He dusts Jedha sand (always tracked inside, no matter how many times they clean the temple) from his robes. “Let’s go see.”

By the time they reach the temple’s enormous main sanctuary, sure enough, Baze can hear the crying. It’s quieter than he expected; not wailing or a full blown tantrum, just a quiet sniffling.

The little boy standing in the middle of the room is so small in comparison that Baze misses him entirely on first look. The room is austere, like the Jedi themselves, but the crystals scattered around the room reflect and refract the light, casting it in flickering patterns across the walls and ceiling. It’s not until the kid raises a hand to scrub at his eyes that Baze spots him.

He’s a scrawny little thing, unruly black hair hanging over eyes that seem too big for his face. He shrinks further as Baze draws close.

“It’s alright,” Chirrut assures the boy, coming up beside Baze, “I know he looks scary, but he’s really a big softie.”

The boy looks uncertainly at Baze, snuffling quietly into one hand.

Baze glances at Chirrut, then goes down on one knee in front of the kid. There’s still almost a foot of height difference between them, but at least the boy doesn’t have to crane his neck to look at him. “What’s your name?” Baze asks gently.

The boy’s eyes flicker back and forth between Chirrut and Baze. “B-Bodhi,” he says uncertainly.

“Okay, Bodhi. I’m Baze.” He holds out his hand. Bodhi hesitantly takes it – or rather, takes two of Baze’s fingers, since that’s all he can really hold – and Baze shakes carefully. Bodhi seems a little reluctant to let go, but he does, pulling his hand back to scrub at his eyes again.

“You look scared,” Baze says.

Bodhi bites his lip and nods. “I don’t know where my Mom went,” he admits in a small voice.

Baze glances back at Chirrut, but the younger Guardian doesn’t seem inclined to intervene, instead listening to their conversation with a little smile on his face. “I’ll tell you what,” Baze says, turning back to Bodhi. “Why don’t we go sit outside on the steps, and I’ll keep you company until she comes back.” He smiles, leaning in a little conspiratorially. “Chirrut knows some really good stories.”

Bodhi’s eyes flicker to Chirrut again. Chirrut winks.

After another couple of sniffles’ worth of consideration, Bodhi nods. “That sounds okay.”

“Okay?” Baze repeats, puffing up a little in mock indignation until Bodhi giggles a little. “Did you hear that, Chirrut? He thinks it’s just okay.” He stands up, careful to move back a little as he does so he doesn’t bowl the boy over, and offers his hand again. “Come on, Bodhi. We’ll prove it to you.”

Bodhi nods again, more certainly this time, and takes his hand.

 

\--

_ii. 16 BBY_

_\--_

“May the Force of others be with you,” Chirrut calls, nodding to passersby without a care in the world for whether they even spare him a glance. “May the Force of others be with you.” A couple of people smile, or nod, but most just walk right past, wrapped up in their own lives and worries. Baze watches them idly from where he lounges beside Chirrut on the temple steps.

Chirrut waves a hand in greeting to another passing man. “May the Force of others be with you.” Then he pauses, and tilts his head. “Aha! It’s good to see you again, Bodhi Rook.”

Baze starts; until the boy (and the older girl whose hand he’s holding, who looks like she might be his sister) stopped, he hadn’t even recognized him. His hair is cut shorter now. He’s still scrawny, but he’s a good foot taller than the last time they met.

Bodhi looks uncertain at first, then his face clears. “Oh! Right—“ He tugs on his sister’s hand. “Remember when I got lost in the temple?”

“And the Guardians found you, yes,” she says, a fond sort of exasperation in her voice. “You’ve told us a hundred times.”

“Oh,” Bodhi says. “Right.” He looks back at Chirrut and smiles, a little shyly. “I really liked your stories.”

Chirrut smiles back. “Come by anytime. I have many stories to tell.”

“Some of them aren’t true,” Baze stage-whispers, as if imparting a great secret.

Bodhi looks thoughtful. “I think it’s okay if stories aren’t always true. As long as they’re good.”

“Very wise, young one,” Chirrut agrees solemnly.

Bodhi’s sister tugs on his hand. “Come on, Bodhi. We gotta go home; we’ve got chores, remember?”

The wrinkle in his nose says quite clearly what Bodhi thinks of that, but he follows her obediently away.

 

\--

_iii. 10 BBY_

_\--_

Just before sundown is Baze’s favorite time of day. All the visitors have gone, leaving the temple quiet and peaceful. The crystals look like they’re on fire with the orange light of sunset. It never fails to take his breath away.

Today, though, he’s not alone. When he steps into the sanctuary, he immediately spots the reedy teenager silhouetted against one of the larger crystals. It’s not until he gets closer that he recognizes Bodhi Rook. He’s lost much of what little baby fat he’d ever had in his cheeks, and his eyes rove with a certain nervous energy.

He glances at Baze as the Guardian strolls up beside him, but says nothing. That’s alright. Baze can be patient. They watch the light track slowly across the ceiling for a while in silence.

“Sometimes I think about leaving,” Bodhi says suddenly. The words echo faintly off the high ceiling.

Baze considers. This isn’t his specialty – Chirrut’s usually the one people go to for advice, being the more talkative one. “Why is that?” he asks finally.

Bodhi shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t look at Baze when he speaks. “I don’t know, I just… Have you ever watched the sunrise from the eastern wall?”

He nods.

Bodhi takes a deep breath. “The way the light spreads across the desert is… anyway.” He tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong. And it looks so big, you know? But I always end up looking up at NaJedha and thinking how small we really are.”

Baze mulls that over. “You’re restless.”

Bodhi glances at him, startled. “I guess I am, yeah.”

Baze nods. “I was restless, once.”

“What did you do?” Bodhi asks.

“That’s a very long story,” Baze says. “And besides, I’m not you.”

Bodhi lets out a little huff. “That’s… true.”

“If you want to go, then go.” Baze shrugs a little. “If you decide you don’t like it, Jedha will be here.”

The teen scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “It will, won’t it?” he says thoughtfully.

That doesn’t really require a response, so Baze returns to watching the light from the crystals until the sun slips below the city walls.

“I should get home,” Bodhi says. He turns to go, then turns back. “Thank you.”

 

_\--_

_iv._ _7 BBY_

_\--_

Baze rises with the sun, but even so, he’s barely had a chance to splash some water on his face when an acolyte runs up to tell him there’s someone waiting for him at the temple gates.

He arrives to find Bodhi Rook standing a little awkwardly in the shadow of the walls, shifting from foot to foot, a small bag slung over his shoulder.

“I guess you’re going,” Baze says as he reaches him.

“I guess so,” Bodhi says. “I can’t stay long; my shuttle leaves in a few minutes. But I—I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. To the temple, you know. And to you.”

Baze nods. He reaches out and clasps Bodhi’s still-scrawny shoulder. “Good luck.”

 

_\--_

_v. 2 BBY_

_\--_

Baze watches through narrowed eyes as Stormtroopers clump up the stairs into the temple. He watches as they drag the kyber crystals out, load them onto their tanks, and drive away. He watches, and he grips his blaster tight.

“Don’t,” Chirrut says tiredly.

“I know,” Baze grits out. To open fire on the Empire would be to invite death, and he’s not quite that far into despair yet. That doesn’t keep him from imagining it in great detail.

Another group rolls up. _There’s nothing left to take, vultures_ , Baze spits inwardly. They’ve stripped the sanctuary bare already, hauled away an enormous treasure trove of kyber crystals, and still they keep coming back. He’s beginning to realize they won’t stop until there’s not a speck of kyber left.

A weedy form appears from behind the tank. Baze squints; there’s something familiar about that form, the nervous hunch in the shoulders.

And then he turns, and Baze recognizes Bodhi Rook, dressed in the dark blue of an Imperial pilot. Ice cold despair washes through him, followed quickly by a deep, burning rage and the sour twist of betrayal.

Bodhi’s gaze meets his. The pilot immediately flinches away, but not soon enough to keep Baze from seeing the shame in his eyes.

 _Good,_ Baze snarls at Bodhi’s retreating back. _You should be_.

 

\--

_vi. 0 BBY_

_\--_

Jedha City has always been quick to rise in the mornings. The desert sun rises hot and clear and early for most of the year, and the inhabitants of the holy city match their rhythms to it. Which means, when the sun’s up, they’re up.

Just another thing that the Empire’s changed, Bodhi thinks as he paces through the empty streets. The curfew doesn’t lift until a couple of hours after sunrise, so right now, he’s alone. His Imperial pilot’s jumpsuit gets him a pass from the almost constant Stormtrooper patrols passing by; he’s only stopped once to ask where he’s going, and they’re clearly not all that interested in his answers. Once they’re satisfied, he moves on, hoping his nerves don’t show on his face.

The data stick in his boot weighs a couple of ounces at most, Bodhi knows, but it feels like so much more. Like an anchor, the weight of Galen Erso’s trust drags at his heels. He trips three separate times between his ship and the temple, almost limping to compensate for the way the future of the galaxy pulls him off balance.

The temple is worse than he remembers. Scorch marks from blaster fire, chunks of stone missing from the once pristine lines of architecture. The inside is the worst; all those beautiful, clear crystals gone, replaced by debris and discarded Imperial trash. His chest hurts just to look at it.

In his mind, Baze’s eyes stare accusingly into his. _This is your fault_.

 _But I’m doing something about it_ , he thinks.

 _You’re too late_.

Bodhi takes as deep a breath as he can manage and lets it out shakily. It can’t be too late. It can’t be.

He can’t look at the sanctuary anymore. He retreats out onto the steps, sitting down off to one side of them. Right where, once, Chirrut entertained him with increasingly outlandish stories until he was laughing too hard to remember to be scared. Right where, hopefully soon, Saw Gerrera will come to meet him.

Bodhi runs his hand across the stone, not yet warmed by the sun, and wonders if it’s possible to be homesick for a time rather than a place.

It doesn’t matter, he decides eventually. The past is gone. The Jedha he knew is gone, partly because of him. He has to live with that.

The only way out is forward. So he clasps his hands together to hide the way they’re trembling, and waits for the future to find him.


End file.
